


A Safe Place

by ShivaeSyke



Series: Blackwood Confidential [7]
Category: Black Rose (Webcomic), Strange Magic (2015), Tales of Arcadia (Cartoons), Trollhunters - Daniel Kraus & Guillermo del Toro
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Supernatural Hunters, Blood, Gen, Were-Creatures
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-25
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:03:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22396036
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShivaeSyke/pseuds/ShivaeSyke
Summary: Strickler leads a lonely life as a changeling and snags the wrong baby to reset his life with. A simple mistake leads to being captured by Arcadian Hunters ...
Relationships: Bog King & Griselda (Strange Magic)
Series: Blackwood Confidential [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1513775
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Arcadians/Hunters are not the same as people from Arcadia. ;) They're from a city called Arcadis, completely different.
> 
> MINIMALLY EDITED! This is my exploration!  

> 
> Guess what I've been watching.  
This is a test story, a memory to be used in a future Blackwood Chronicles story that immediately formed itself... oh yay.... I have TWO of them , one set in Arcadia with a slightly different telling and a second part in Blackwood. I do intend to involve Claire, Jim, Toby, AAARGH! etc, along with Barbara, because I LOVE Barbara/Strickler. Only I wound them into my world. >:D 
> 
> I'm afraid this may be a bit boring, because it's mean to explore Strickler and I need to watch the series a few more times. :D  
Forgive me.

Strickler was having an awful day, one of the worst days he had in decades. It began with an attempt to refresh his human form, kidnapping a baby from a stroller in a busy mall. It had been a long time since he last did a kidnapping, and everything went well until he realized he chose the wrong baby. 

Stolen human babies brought enough heat, without nabbing an Arcadian infant. Usually, he would return the baby when he was done, unharmed. As a changeling, Strickler required contact with a baby every hundred years to repair time ravaged DNA and set his age back to his early twenties. Arcadians, monster hunters, were to be avoided at all costs, and here he took one of their babies, bringing them down on him in a fury. 

Worse, they caught him after sunset in his troll form, holding the stolen child. He would never harm a child, but they didn’t know that. All they saw was a vicious looking, green-skinned, horned monster with glowing gold and crimson eyes and a defenseless child in his arms. 

Strickler wasn’t sure what to do. It was the first time he had been caught in this position, trapped in a small hotel room with heavily armed and armored Hunters circling and shouting at him. He made a decision and placed the baby in the hotel’s bathtub to make sure he was safe, then tried to escape by crashing through the thin wall into the next room. 

Unfortunately, that room was full of Hunters and not empty. They converged on him, not realizing what he was, and he immediately surrendered. He could not risk them discovering what he was, and the surest way of that would be infecting them with his blood. The Hunters swarmed around him, tied him up, and dragged him out into the cold, hauling him into the back of a van. 

Keeping his mind, Strickler offered no resistance. He had been trapped in the hotel room, but if he waited, he would have a better opportunity to escape. The vehicle traveled on well into the night, stopping early in the morning, just before sunrise. There were six Hunters in the back of the van with him, thankfully ignoring him. They thought he was secured, and five went into a diner to have breakfast, leaving one to watch him. 

Strickler could hear people outside the van and began shouting for help, causing a scene. The foolish Hunters thought he was some kind of troll and tied him up with silver threaded rope, not realizing he could change. His uncontrolled shift into a human man occurred, and ropes slid off, no longer able to hold him. The Hunter stared at him as he slammed against the back of the van, shouting more. 

“I’m going to shoot you if you don’t stop that now!” The Hunter shouted, rising up, aiming his rifle. 

“Help! He’s going to shoot me!” Strickler hit the door with his fists, glancing over his shoulder with a shrewd smile at the Hunter. There was a knock on the door, making the Hunter turn his head, and Strickler rammed into the Hunter with superhuman speed and strength, slamming him into the wall. Wasting no time, Strickler pulled the door open and stumbled out into the bright morning sunlight amid a small gathering of humans. Panting, he motioned back to the van, “Don’t let them get me!” He shouted, taking off into a run across the parking lot and toward what looked like a massive forest. 

Shouting rang out around him, but he didn’t look back, racing through ankle-deep snow once he hit the edge of the forest, then he was gone among the trees. Running blindly into a forest on a freezing cold day beat attempting to outrun Hunters in the open, even with human assistance. He couldn’t trust humans to keep him safe in any case. It was better to depend on himself. 

-=-=-=-=-= 

Strickler ran for over an hour, then slowed, confident the Hunters were not pursuing him. He continued traveling, the cold beginning to set into his fingers and toes. The clothing he last wore when he shifted were everyday clothes, just a simple brown suit coat, pants, blue sweater, and shoes that were not meant for walking in the snow. 

Then the perytons showed up. The winged deer spotted him and began darting in to take a look, harassing him with their words. The creatures startled him when they first appeared. It had been hundreds of years since he last saw perytons. Where there were Perytons, there were Atlanteans, and he needed to avoid them. 

“Knock it off!” Strickler threw a rock at one of the creatures. It leaped into the air with a laugh, kicking its heels and using its short wings to remain aloft for a few seconds. 

“What are you doing out here, Human? You’re going to die out here in the cold! Or the King is going to come out here and eat you! You should return to the town where it’s safe!” The perytons bounced around him, repeating the same words over and over again. 

“Which way is town?” Strickler stopped walking and stared at the animals. As one, the herd turned and faced one direction. With a snort, Strickler walked in the opposite direction, further into the forest. He just had to survive until evening, then he would be able to make progress when the cold wouldn’t bother him. 

-=-=-=-=-= 

It had only been a few hours when the shivering became so bad Strickler was having a problem walking. The temperature dropped below freezing, and he looked for someplace to get out of the cold, maybe make a fire. The Perytons were gone, bored with him, but he glimpsed other creatures that should not have been roaming wild in a forest. There was something odd about this forest, but that was a mystery he didn’t care as much about as getting warmer. 

Then he realized he was being tracked, catching sight of a black wolf in the trees. He could take a wolf if he had to, but then he saw more of them, closing in. Suddenly, the wolves vanished into the forest, and it made Strickler more nervous. Warily, he continued trudging into the snow, moving on will alone. 

“Hello!” A voice called out ahead, making Strickler jump and almost fall. Shakily, he looked for who was speaking, expecting another annoying peryton. “You shouldn’t be out here.” A very short woman came into view, dressed in a heavy winter coat, a hood pulled over her head. “Come with me, and we’ll get you someplace warm.” 

Strickler glanced around, running his hands over his arms, trying to still his shaking. He sighed and nodded. “I’m lost. Do we have to go far.” 

“No, not really.” She smiled, walking up to him. “Come along, Dear, let me help you.” 

Strickler sighed, lowering his eyes, considering his limited options. His only choice was to go with this human woman until sunset. It would be a few hours before that happened. The sun was still up, but beginning its descent. He would freeze if he remained out here any longer. 

“My name is Zelda, what’s your name?” The woman introduced herself with a friendly smile, standing in front of him now, unwrapping the scarf around her neck. “Here, it’s not much, but it’ll help.” She held it out, and Strickler smiled, reaching out to take it. Any warmth right now was welcome. 

The moment he took the scarf in his hand, he realized his error. Zelda was still smiling, but someone grabbed him from behind, pushing him down. He attempted to fight back, but Zelda’s hand touched his forehead, and she uttered a single word. Sleep. And he blacked out immediately, falling limply into the arms of a much taller man who was not dressed to be out in the cold. 

“Be careful with him, Bog, he’s in bad shape. We need to get him home as soon as possible.” Zelda frowned at her son, pressing a hand to Strickler’s face, a golden glow lighting up his skin where her fingers touched. “Frostbite taken care of, but he needs to be warmed up and fast.” 

“So much trouble for one man,” grumbled Bog, picking Strickler up effortlessly and shifting into his hybrid wolf form, a massive creature bristling with black fur, standing upright on digitigrade paws instead of feet. 

“Wrap my coat around him,” Zelda stated, unzipping it. Half a dozen wolves surrounded them while they worked on wrapping the coat over Strickler’s body. It was too small, but better than nothing. 

“Are we done?” one of the wolves inquired. 

“Yeah, we got it from here.” Bog scowled, twitching his ears back. His mother shifted into a similar hybrid form, smaller, and covered in red fur. 

“We’re five miles from the farmhouse, let’s take him there,” Zelda stated, walking in front of her son. 

“So much trouble.” Bog’s lips curled up in annoyance. “Could have just let nature take its course.” 

“You would never do such a thing to some poor innocent human,” snorted Zelda. “Now, let’s go, less talking, more walking.” 

“Yes, Mother,” sighed Bog, trotting after her, making sure the man was pressed up against him securely. 

-=-=-=-=-=

“How did that man get from Main street and that deep into Blackwood Forest in a few hours, in the snow, dressed like that?” Bog brought his mother a pile of blankets. 

Zelda had Strickler lying on a couch in front of a fireplace, buried under blankets. “Adrenaline and fear can make people do amazing things,” stated Zelda, checking her patient’s pulse. “I believe it’s safe to wake him now, he’s warmed up enough. Can you bring me a cup of tea from the kitchen, Bog?” 

“Wake.” Zelda ran her finger’s over the man’s head, and he stirred with a groan, gripping the mass of blankets around him tightly. His green eyes fixed on her, appearing dazed and uncertain, then they snapped open. 

“Where am I?” Strickler attempted to move and was pushed down by an impossibly strong hand. 

“You’re safe,” stated Zelda, attempting to keep him calm. “You can stay here until tomorrow morning.” 

“Morning.” He took a deep breath, staring at her in panic. “What time is it?” 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” clucked Zelda. “I need you to drink some tea and eat something.” 

“I need to go.” Strickler struggled, unsure if it was because of his weakened state or if this woman really was strong enough to hold him down with one hand on his shoulder. 

“Bogdan, I need your help. I think he’s in shock.” Zelda stood and when she did, Strickler felt the change envelope him, shifting him from human to troll. She stared at him curiously, not seeming shocked at all. “Bog. Come here now.” 

Strickler stared back, inhaling deeply, sensing something going on he was missing. The hand like iron was still on him. Then he heard the swearing as Bog entered the room. Everyone froze in place, unsure of what to do for the moment. 

“Calm down,” Zelda stated gently. “You are safe here, uhm, what is your name? I’m going to let you go now, but stay where you are.” 

Strickler continued staring uncertainly, feeling the need to run but at the same time curious about these people who brought him in from the cold and were trying to help. He was suspicious, but not stupid. Zelda’s hand released his shoulder, and she leaned back, looking at him. 

“Changeling? It’s been decades since the last time I saw a changeling.” She smiled and repeated, “You are safe here.” 

“He might be safe, but what about us?’ Bog growled, remaining in the doorway, holding a hot cup of tea in one hand. 

“I just want to leave,” stated Strickler, pushing the blankets aside and sitting up, his eyes glowing briefly as he looked around the room. 

“We went all the way out into the forest to rescue you, so the least you can do is let us feed you,” chuckled Zelda. “There’s chicken noodle soup on the stove, out of a can, I’m afraid, but you should eat.” 

“Is this a good idea, Mother?” Bog reminded them he was still there. 

“Give him the tea, Son.” 

Bog made a face but did as his mother asked, with a noticeable tremble in his hand, keeping his eyes on the changeling. Strickler took the cup in his slender fingers and looked up at the pair of them warily. “What are you?” He blew over the top of the cup to cool it. 

“Relatives,” stated Zelda. “Lyceans. This is Blackwood. Everyone is welcome in Blackwood.” 

“Not everyone,” snorted Bog, towering over his mother, eye locked on Strickler, his posture alert and on guard. 

“Bog, be polite.” Zelda turned and snapped at her son, which had an immediate effect. He scowled at her and crossed his arms, brilliant blue eyes fixed on Strickler. “He’s young. Now, what is your name, Changeling?” 

Strickler took a moment to sip his tea, smiling as the hot liquid sent a pleasant warming sensation through his body. “Waltolemew Stricklander,” he stated, a little more at ease. “You may call me Walter or Strickler.” 

“Well, Walter, why don’t you make yourself comfortable and I’ll bring you something to eat. Bog won’t harm you, will you, Son?” Zelda rose, patting Strickler on the shoulder without reservation. He stared after her, then up at Bog, who sighed and slumped forward.

“Don’t make me regret allowing this,” grumbled Bog. “And for the record, I was never going to harm ye. I don’t do that kinda thing. She’s just trying to make sure ye know it’s safe here. Yer the first changeling I’ve ever met, and the stories aren’t kind to ye.”

“I’m aware.” Strickler took another sip of the tea and attempted to be cordial. “I apologize for my presence here and inconveniencing you and your mother. I will keep my stay short.” He paused, considering his words. “I was captured by Hunters and escaped.”

“Yes, I’m aware of what happened this morning.” Bog nodded, turning to the fireplace. “Sorry ye had to go through with that. Ye didn’t bleed on anyone, did ye? That’s a mess I don’t want to clean up.”

“No. I surrendered,” muttered Strickler. “I would never want anyone to share this curse. I just want to be left alone.”

“I know the feeling.” Bog turned, offering a slight smile. “I’m sorry, Sir, I’ve been impolite. Ye are safe here, in my town, it’s just that yer a…” He trailed off.

“An abomination to all the races, yes, I am aware of my own existence,” chuckled Strickler drily. “I know how much everyone hates changelings and being reminded a few exist.”

“Yer talking to a Rex Regis Lycean,” Bog leaned against the fireplace. “The only thing more loathed than us are Vampires.”

“And changelings,” stated Strickler with a smile, feeling more at ease with the change of tone in Bog’s voice. “I have not had an incident in over a thousand years. I am careful. Those of us that remain are very careful to take care of our messes.”

“Keep yer distance from me and my mom,” growled Bog, setting a stern look on Strickler. “We have it bad enough without becoming Changelings on top of it.”

“As I said. I have not had an incident in over a thousand years, and that was an accident I had no control over.” Strickler sighed.

“Bog, be nice to our guest,” Zelda chided her son, returning to the room with a tray bearing a steaming bowl of soup, crackers, and a glass of water. “I’m sorry we don’t have more here. In the morning, I think you should come home with us and spend a few days here in Blackwood. I would love to talk to you about the things you’ve seen in your life. How old are you?” She gave the tray to Strickler, then sat next to him, a hand on his shoulder. He smiled at her, touched by the kind gesture.

Strickler could not recall the last time if ever, someone treated him like a person in his troll form. Even other Changelings were disgusted by their appearance. He tried a spoonful of the soup, pondering staying a short time. “I am 1,342 years old.”

“That, that is old.” Bog’s eyes widened. “But ye don’t look that old right now or in yer human form. Ye look my age, twenty.”

“Yes,” sighed Strickler. “I just reset, to use your term.” He didn’t want to mention the kidnapped baby. “I’m sure you know why we were created, a step toward immortality.”

“Yeah, ye were the experiment that led to us, only ye don’t control yer shifting, and ye had problems.” Bog became more interested in Strickler. “Like spreading yer condition.”

“Let’s not talk about this right now,” Zelda interrupted her son. “Why don’t you eat and rest, Walter. We’ll talk tomorrow if you want to stay. You are free to leave, but I would really like to talk to you, and I’ll make you real, home-cooked meals.”

“I.” Strickler looked from Zelda to her son, considering. “If it isn’t a bother, I’ll stay for a short time. I have nowhere to go and need to make preparations for a new life.”

“We can help with that,” Bog stated unexpectedly. “We have connections to get ye a new identity and moved to a new town if ye need it.”

Strickler stared at him, then nodded. “If it’s no trouble. Thank you.” He could afford to stay. These were his people, fellow Lyceans, who understood being reviled and hunted. It was the first time he ran into any that were this accommodating, so he still had to be wary. Trust was a difficult thing to come by in the world he lived in, but he was usually a good judge of people, having lived among them, observing for hundreds of years.

People never changed. Time passed, but people were always the same, going on with their short lives, unaware of the bigger picture of the world around them. People never changed, but there were a few who could be tolerated.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bog does some research on Changelings and sets things in motion to help Strickler out and get him out of his town.
> 
> Strickler isn't as innocent as he first appears.

“Changelings, Changelings,” grumbled Bog, sitting at a computer, accessing The Network’s database for information. Rumors of Changelings persisted through the centuries, but these people tried their best to keep a low profile for valid reasons. The information in the Lycean databases was limited, mostly repeats of stories Bog heard as a child from his own mother. 

Their guest was polite, sophisticated, and well educated. To be as old as he was, Strickler had done an excellent job blending into human society and keeping his secret. Bog was still wary of him, mostly because the last thing he wanted was to end up turning into something that was honestly, horrifically hideous. At least as a wolf, he could be considered primally majestic, far better looking than his human self. 

Changelings were stronger as humans and even more powerful in their troll form, with their living stone skin. The ability to pass on their attributes through their blood was well known, although not always a sure thing. Changeling blood could kill someone with opposing genetics, or it might do nothing at all. There were several occurrences in the far past where a band of familarsis feralis, Trolls to be precise, attempted an uprising with Changeling blood, cursing an entire village of humans and then conscripted them to rise up against others. 

This was why Changelings hid themselves to the extent they did today. They were living weapons on the scale of a nuclear bomb, spreading their genetics, their curse, with a single drop of blood, and then everyone they infected could do the same. Newly ‘born’ Changelings were easy to control, in a temporary state of confusion and pliable. This state could last for years, and they obeyed the orders of the first people or creatures they saw giving orders. 

Bog sighed, realizing he had more information on Changelings than the archive did, not only that, but he could go upstairs and just listen to the conversation Strickler was having with his mother. The pair of them sat in the living room and talked for hours. Of course, his mother would have a lot to say, being well over 600 herself, but it was so rare for her to meet someone near her own age, let alone far older. 

Strickler was nice enough, and Bog felt guilty for how terrified the man made him. He couldn’t help it. The blood-borne curse was dangerous and he cringed every time he witnessed his mother touch him, like they were old friends, and just how much Strickler enjoyed it. Of course, he did, for the very reason, Bog wouldn’t touch him. Nobody would if they knew, except Zelda Laird, because she was just like that, friendly and welcoming, secure in her own knowledge, and worry-free. 

Living a life where nobody would touch you for any reason had to be awful. Bog had his mother for hugs and familial affection, which was better than nothing. Strickler had no one and likely never would. Still, Bog worried he might want to stay in town because his mother was too nice to him. He clicked over to another page, checking on the status of the new IDs he was setting up. Walter Strickler, history teacher, to be sent to a town with a job opening called Arcadia. It was halfway across the country; far enough, the Changeling wouldn’t be tempted to visit Blackwood. 

Bog tapped his fingers on the desk, thinking about what he was doing for the Changeling. He was old and responsible, but what responsibility did Bog take by assisting him and placing him in a small town full of unsuspecting humans? Such a town was the best place to hide Strickler, but Bog was essentially placing a ticking time bomb there, trusting this man he did not know. Still, over a thousand years old, he appeared to know what he was doing. 

There were three options, relocate Strickler, find a remote place in Blackwood for him, or kill him for the sake of the world. The latter was immediately removed since Bog had never killed anyone, and his job was to protect his people, which Strickler loosely fell under. The changeling could not remain in Blackwood because people would talk, and they could be insanely curious about outsiders, not to mention some of his people would be able to detect what Strickler was and the fewer people that knew, the better. 

No, relocation and leaving the Changeling to go on with his life was the best option. Bog grumbled, getting up to join his mother and unwanted guest downstairs. 

-=-=-=-=-

“Ah, you’re choosing to join us, Bogdan?” Strickler sat in a chair near the fireplace, a glass of red wine in hand. Zelda sat in a chair across from him, with her own glass and Bog eyed the pair of them. 

“I’ll have your new IDs ready in a few days and scheduled an interview for the job opening next week. Do ye really want to be teaching in a school, around so many children?” Bog crossed the room to stand by the fireplace. “Wouldn’t ye rather have a more private job?” 

“Schools work, because of the hours,” stated Strickler. “Honestly, I enjoy teaching and being around people. It keeps me sane. Sanity is a valuable state of mind, and nobody wants an insane Changeling running wild.” He smiled, sipping his wine and observing their reactions. Lyceans. For as powerful of creatures as these two were, he had them eating out of his hand and helping him in ways they could not imagine. They were naive fools, and he almost felt bad taking advantage of them.

Zelda was not one to be trifled with, Strickler sensed that immediately. She was old for a Lycean and to be respected, but her son was an overprotective fool. The mother-son dynamic was typical of Lyceans. Bogdan respected his mother and did what she told him to, while constantly keeping an eye on him. Still, he suspected nothing, his only desire to make Strickler leave, and he would go when he wanted to.

For now, he chatted with Zelda, and she freely told him about their paradise, this town of Blackwood that held hundreds of Lyceans and Atlanteans, along with a massive amount of dangerous creatures in the surrounding forest, trolls, and goblins, a large number of trolls. Strickler played the part of a poor lost soul, seeking refuge and assistance, and the goodhearted fools ate it up.

Blackwood was an amazing town, and he had long term goals to achieve. It might work into them in the future, along with discovering the location of the Hunter Hub to the northwest. So many influential people gathered so close together. It would be a pity if one little changeling infected the right people, a few at a time, and slowly began taking it over.

Strickler laughed merrily at something amusing Zelda said, his thoughts elsewhere. These two were the King and Queen of the local Lyceans, attracting them to their town. He could infect them and be in charge of Blackwood without anyone knowing. 

“I hope you’ll stay a little longer, Walter,” Zelda laughed, reaching out to lay her hand on Strickler’s shoulder. “We don’t get many guests with your particular level of sophistication.”

“I daresay, I find that hard to believe.” Strickler smiled, glancing at her hand, a rare sensation of guilt tugging at him. Zelda knew what he was, yet she kept making contact with him. This ridiculous Lycean woman who should have known better treated him in a way he had never been treated by someone who knew, and it chipped away at his cold stone heart. A tiny chip, but a chip nonetheless.

His thoughts went another direction. Infecting Lyceans and Atlanteans would not work as well as regular humans. The control he would have over them would fade faster than a normal human and need to be refreshed periodically.

“You are far too humble,” chuckled Zelda, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “I need to check on dinner.”

“Let me help you.” Strickler set his glass down and got up to follow the much shorter woman out of the living room.

“Keep away from the knives,” grumbled Bog. “We don’t want any incidents.”

“I would never take such a risk. You can trust me to take every precaution.” Strickler glanced back at the tall young man. “You carry far too much responsibility for one so young. Relaxation is key to a long, happy life.”

“I’ll relax when I’m dead,” snorted Bog in response, knitting his eyebrows at Strickler. “And yer on yer way to yer new life.”

“That will be soon enough, I promise you.” Strickler smiled, stepping into the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where I'm going with this! It hasn't come to me yet, and I may have to binge the whole series again to figure out what Strickler is up to, but he IS up to something and I have a vague notion. One thing I'm sure off, Zelda being Zelda is likely the one thing saving Blackwood from being turned into a city of slaves for Strickler to control. I'm also considering Changelings not working quite like how they're believed to work.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strickler makes his move to try to take over Blackwood and things don't go how he assumed they would.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Edited some things I forgot this morning*
> 
> Forgive the editing, this WAS meant as exploration and I did it. The only problem is writing a character who is smarter than me, who has a particular way of speaking, which is going to be difficult to mimic. I KNOW what I'm going to do with him now though!

The days flew by, with Strickler enjoying his time in the Laird’s home and around town. Zelda took him out several times, against Bog’s wishes. Her son preferred that he remain safely inside their house, away from people, but she insisted he should go out and enjoy life. He wasn’t a prisoner and she enjoyed doing things she hadn’t done for years with a man. That last part really irritated Bog.

What was his crazy mother doing? She wasn’t drawn to him, thankfully, but it annoyed Bog that they spent so much time together. And Strickler? Oh, he was a charming to a point that it triggered every button in Bog to keep his eye on him. Something wasn’t right and he couldn’t help but sense whatever it was, they didn’t need it in his town. Strickler needed to leave as soon as possible. 

The interview was done the day before and Strickler was awaiting a reply, but felt confident he got the job, but it wouldn’t begin until the next semester, a full month away. Bog packed an envelope with the new IDs, paperwork, and $10,000 in cash, far more than the normal amount given to a relocated Lycean or Atlantean who needed to relocate. He wanted the changeling gone, out of his house, out of his town, and most importantly, away from his mother. Who knew what they were doing when he wasn’t around? It made a queasy nauseous feeling rise in his stomach.

Still, Zelda Laird was smart and shrewd when she had to be. Lyceans didn’t live to be as old as her unless they were exceptionally crafty and wise. Bog accepted that he should trust his mother, she knew what she was doing and perhaps he was overly paranoid and a little jealous. With a grumble, he set the envelope on the table, intending to give it to Walter that evening and send him on his way however he wanted to leave.

-=-=-=-=- 

Strickler enjoyed what he saw of Blackwood and had a plan. He hadn’t chosen which Laird he was going to use, still trying to determine which one would get the most compliance out of the other. Bog’s overprotective nature made him a good choice, but that nature might mean he was more willing to take chances if he thought his mother was in danger. 

Zelda was an entirely different matter because as sweet and endearing as that woman was, he knew she was the more dangerous of the two. If he went for her son and controlled him, she might ignore any danger and come for him, or plot. 

Honestly, Strickler would love to have that keen mind on his side, she made that big of an impression on him. Unfortunately, despite the streak of wildness in Zelda, she didn’t seem to have any kind of dark side to her he could reach. She was genuinely a nice person with a way of looking at the world that only came from being centuries old. Time meant nothing to her. She existed in the moment and was happy.

He couldn’t figure out why she wasn’t more like him, considering her life experiences at times were similar to his own. She experienced far more loss in her life, whereas he was never able to really get close to anyone. But they were both hunted, turned on, betrayed, and had more than their fair share of wars they took part in. The one deciding difference was the fact Zelda had family and he had never known such a thing, that he could remember.

Strickler decided he would make the decision when they handed him the ID papers. Plans had to have backup plans and if something unforeseen occurred, he would need those papers to establish his new life. He doubted the pair would leave Blackwood to hunt him down. 

-=-=-=-=- 

“This is delicious, Zelda,” Strickler complimented her, sitting at dinner with Zelda and Bog. Lasagna was on the menu, made with homemade noodles and italian bread baked from scratch. He had a glass of wine in front of him and was enjoying the evening.

“Thank you, Walter,” Zelda stated with a pleasant smile. “I look forward to your visits in the future whenever you like.”

Bog sat silently, a manila envelope sitting next to him on the corner of the table. He ate and watched Strickler, who ignored the constant looks, engaged in conversation with Zelda.

“I have yer papers, Sir,” stated Bog as dinner neared its end, tapping the envelope. “I added extra so ye can leave tonight or in the morning.”

“Oh?” Strickler wiped his mouth with the napkin, then lifted the glass of wine. “I’ve been thinking that perhaps I would be better off remaining here in Blackwood. You have an amazing town.”

“That would not be a good idea.” A dark look passed over Bog’s features and Zelda scooted her chair away from the table to begin clearing the dinner plates. “I gave ye enough ye can go anywhere ye need and have a few months to make other arrangements.”

“I like it here.” Strickler smiled, leaning back and steepling his fingers. “I know how to be careful and I am no danger to anyone.”

“I am telling ye, ye need to go.” Bog scowled, tapping his fingers on the table as his mother took his plate.

It happened so fast, even Strickler was surprised by his move. Plates crashed to the floor and he was on his feet as Zelda leaned over to pick up the plate in front of him. He grabbed the small woman around the shoulders, amazed by how light she was as he lifted her and stepped away from the table.

Bog rose with a snarl, eyes gleaming and posture ready to shift, but he held back, because Strickler had a knife, a knife which he was holding across the arm pressed below his mother’s mouth. 

“It’s time for ye to go. Let my mother go, and leave.” Bog growled, unable to move, his eyes locked on his mother’s oddly serene face.

Strickler smiled at Bog, “You know what will happen if any of my blood gets on your mother, don’t you? Zelda? Do you want to share my curse? I can free you of my will immediately, but only if I’m allowed to stay. Or just allow me to stay and no one needs to be cursed but me.”

“Walter, we’ve treated you well,” Zelda stated, remaining remarkably calm, far too calm by Strickler’s judgment. It was worrying, but maybe it was just how she was. “Release me now and you can walk out the door unharmed.”

“You wouldn’t attack me,” stated Strickler. “You would get infected immediately and I will not release my control on you if you do. Those are my demands. Let me stay and nothing happens, attempt to attack me and I will infect Zelda, maybe even you too, Bogdan, actually attack me and you’ll infect yourselves.”

“You’re a smart man, Walter.” Zelda shook her head, then looked at her son with a smile. “This is your last chance.” Bog backed up, unsure of what was going to happen, but knowing by that look his mother was going to handle it. “Let me go. Take the money and leave.”

Strickler scowled, shifting suddenly into his troll form, still holding the knife over his arm. “No.” He snarled, “I didn't want to do this to you, Zelda, but I need one of you on a leash.” And he pressed the knife onto his arm only to find his face full of fur as Zelda shifted into her hybrid form and sank her teeth into his arm before the knife could cut his skin.

“Mother!” Bog screamed in horror, looking from his insane mother to a very startled troll. Purple blood streamed down Strickler’s arm as he let go of Zelda.

“You are a smart man, Walter,” Zelda repeated with a toothy grin, blood dripping off her lower jaw. “But it looks like you don’t know everything. Many myths about us are wrong and so are myths about you. I know a lot of your secrets and apparently a few things here and there you’ve never come up against.”

Strickler stared at his bleeding arm, then at Zelda, while Bog stood frozen, unsure what was going on, but fearing for his mother. Zelda had full control of her mind, there was not a sign of the normal daze that followed infection. Strickler swallowed hard, weighing his options.

“Changeling blood doesn’t affect Eximius or Rex Regis Lyceans,” growled Zelda, taking a few steps back to give Strickler room to get away if he wanted. “And another thing, you can not control any Lycean or Atlantean within a hundred miles in the presence of Rex Regis. They will only listen to us.”

Bog bristled, shifting into his own hybrid form, furious at Strickler and now that he knew he had nothing to fear, wanted to tear into him. His mother held up a hand to stop him.

“I am sorry you chose to leave like this,” stated Zelda, baring her fangs at him, far bigger fangs than his own and cold glinting eyes. “Take your IDs and leave. You are not welcome in Blackwood.”

Strickler scowled, looking from one to the other, trapped between two massive piles of fur and teeth. He wasn’t foolish enough to fight them and was now a little wiser and humbled by the move. There was no recovering from this. This Lycean woman played him like a fiddle, only she did it in a way he couldn’t fully understand. Zelda gave him a chance to be accepted in the future and he threw it away. 

Bog snarled, unable to find any words, barely holding himself back. 

“Leave.” Zelda stated, motioning to the envelope.

Grumbling, Strickler grabbed the envelope and headed for the back door. He had nothing to say, but didn’t want to leave with any sign of defeat. His arm stung, but the bite wasn’t meant to severely hurt him, only make him bleed. The wound was already healing, even though blood dripped off his fingers.

“I really liked you, Walter. You need to grow up and think about more than just yourself.” Zelda’s voice followed him out of the house and he winced, sighing. He actually liked her, but in the end, she was right. His need to look out for himself and only himself did him in on this one. The one time someone actually gave him a chance to be normal and he threw it away.

Strickler grumbled more, wings emerging from his shoulders. He had a long flight ahead of him and a lot to think about along the way. Maybe next time someone gave him a chance, he would realize it before he ruined it.

-=-=-=-=-

“Mother!” Bog shifted back to his human form and ran up to her, grabbing her. “Why didn’t ye tell me?!”

“You didn’t need to know,” sighed Zelda, shifting back and running the back of her hand over her mouth. “Changeling blood’s kind of sweet. No wonder vampires seek them out.”

“Ye are really gross.” Bog gagged, letting her go. 

“I know a lot about Changelings,” shrugged Zelda. “You happen to have a 400 year old Changeling sister out there somewhere.”

Bog stared at his mother. “Ye were drawn to a Changeling as a husband? Ye never mentioned this.”

“I never mention a lot of things.” Zelda sighed and started picking up pieces of broken plates. “Doesn’t mean they didn’t happen.”

“Next you’ll be telling me ye married an Arcadian.” Bog rolled his eyes and turned away, walking off to retrieve a broom to help clean up. “That’s all I need, Arcadian relatives trying to kill me.”

Zelda shook her head and smiled. “Grab a vial and collect a blood sample. I don’t think anyone has ever managed to get a sample of Changeling blood. For all his threats, it seems like he didn’t really want to infect anyone and hasn’t, since at some point during that long life, he would have tried this before.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do believe this is Strickler outsmarting himself in a really bad way. :/ I hoped to get the point across that Griselda was PLAYING HIM, but in a way to invite him into their society as a part of it, when he decided he wants to be in charge of it. I didn't want him 'defeated', which is why there was no actual attack, because I believe while he's a capable warrior, he chooses his battles and after Zelda laid out the facts and they didn't press the attack, he would opt for leaving with his IDs... off to go teach in Arcadia for 20+ years. >:D Where he's going to meet a certain ER doctor every morning for coffee in a quaint little coffee shop for a decade.
> 
> This little story is setup for the future, when Strickler is obviously going to need to RETURN to Blackwood for very important reason as a much different person. ;) I even know the story I will tell, although it's still formulating and I won't begin for awhile.
> 
> BTW, changelings aren't quite as potent as stated and they have a few more secrets that weren't revealed here.
> 
> And don't mess with Griselda. She so seldom gets to do stuff like this.

**Author's Note:**

> In my world, Changelings were the first experiment that led to the creations of the Lyceans. They are flawed, because males are human during the day and trolls at night and there is no standard look to them. Females are human during the night and trolls during the day. Sunlight isn't lethal to the men, it just shifts them automatically into their human form. Nightfall turns them into trolls.  
Sunlight is not lethal to the women, turning them to stone if they are caught in it, which breaks in the evening.  
They spread their condition via 1: Normal reproduction, which they AVOID like the plague, because of 2. contact with bodily fluids, blood, etc, spreads their changeling condition and there is NO CURE, thus, the other races don't want them anywhere near them.  
I wanted to incorporate the baby snatching and decided they require a baby, which they basically take care of for a few hours, absorbing a little bit of their life force (perfectly harmless, doesn't steal years or anything, just makes them sleepier than normal for awhile and makes them act odd when returned) then the contact resets their human looking age. The other races can do this on will, but the Changelings are 'broken' and need external DNA and life force.


End file.
